When a Heart Stops (28 page)

“Do what you have to do. He doesn't have insurance and I don't
know if he even has Medicaid. It doesn't matter. I'll make sure you get your money.”

Dr. Travis nodded and left to write her orders.

Dominic pulled in a deep breath and thought about what he needed to do first. He had to call Alexia and Hunter and let them know what was going on.

Then he'd go down and see Serena.

He pulled out his phone and saw he had three missed calls and four texts. He checked Serena's first and felt his heart drop into his shoes.

Serena believed in evil. She'd seen it in action on a daily basis. Shootings, beatings, child abuse, suicide. Evil existed. And right now, she felt evil hovering around her.

Immediately, she started to pray.

A sound to her left.

She whirled to face the danger head on, saw Camille's father, mouth gagged, hands and feet tied. His terror-filled eyes stared at something behind her. She pressed her thumb on the Send button before she whirled . . .

. . . and felt a prick in the back of her neck, then knew no more.

Dominic tried Serena again and still she didn't answer. He hung up, fear crawling through his gut. He kept his car headed toward the address she'd left on his phone and kicked himself for not keeping his phone on ring. But she'd been safe. If she'd stayed at the hospital, she would
still
be safe.

“You're panicking for nothing,” he reassured himself out loud. “She's fine. She's just left her phone in the car or something.”

She was fine.

She probably was.

But he needed to see that for himself.

“Answer your phone,” he muttered as he gunned the car to pass a slower moving truck. He turned his lights on and they flashed, getting instant results. People moved out of his way.

He could be there in less than ten minutes.

Keeping his eyes open for those who might not be paying attention, he zipped through the traffic as fast as he dared.

Soon, he turned onto Bolton Drive.

And then he was in the driveway. Colton's vehicle was parked against the curb. Dominic relaxed a fraction. Had Serena called Colton when she couldn't get him? Why hadn't Colton called him?

The whole thing looked weird, the feeling that trouble waited just behind the front door.

With everything in him, he wanted to shoot out of the car and burst through the door. Instead, he waited, watched, kept his eyes on the house, the surrounding area. Were there any neighbors home? And if Serena were here, how did she get here? Rick still had her car, he'd dropped her off at the morgue, so what had she driven? Had she taken a cab?

Dominic dialed Colton's phone and waited.

His nerves twitched. His instincts shouted at him. Something was wrong.

But before he called it in, he had to make sure. Climbing out of the vehicle, he stared at the front door. Then started toward it. He'd picked up no immediate threat in the area around him.

No immediate threat.

That didn't mean one wasn't waiting behind the door.

Or causing Colton not to answer his phone.

Dominic shoved the phone in his pocket and drew his weapon. With the other hand, he twisted the knob. It swung inward and Dominic stood to the side while he took in the small interior of the house.

His gut said he needed to call for backup. And yet . . .

“FBI! Come out and show me your hands!”

He waited.

“She's not here.”

Dominic froze. “Colton?”

The man came from the kitchen. “Yeah. I just got here about thirty seconds ago. Kitchen's clear.” His jaw worked. “Let's clear the rest of the house.”

“Something wrong with your phone?”

“I felt it buzzing but hadn't cleared the area yet, so couldn't answer. Sorry. Still have to clear the rest of the place.”

“Let's do it then.”

Slowly, Dominic made his way through the den, stopping at the side of the door that led into the kitchen. Rounding it, his gun held ready, he cleared the room and continued down the hall. Colton had his back.

His pulse pounded, senses sharp.

Where was Serena? Or Camille?

At the first bedroom, he repeated his actions to clear the room and stepped inside.

Checked behind the door and froze.

Nash stared sightlessly from his bound position on the floor. The bullet hole in the middle of his forehead told the story. “Oh man.”

Colton stepped past him, walked down the hall. “Clear!”

There was nothing he could do for the man now. Quickly and efficiently, Dominic and Colton cleared the last room and bathroom, then got on the phone. He called CSU and reported his find to Rick.

His next call was to Hunter and Katie. “Get out to 114 Bolton Drive. We've got a dead body and a missing teen.” He prayed Serena had arrived, grabbed Camille, and left before the killer had shown up, but he had a bad feeling that wasn't the way it had gone down.

He didn't want to wait on the others, but he also didn't want the scene contaminated in any way. Back on the phone with Hunter, he asked, “Where are you?”

“Five minutes out.”

“Rick's on the way. I don't know where Serena or Camille are, but this dead body's not making me feel very good about things.” In fact, he'd never reacted this way with a case before.

But Serena was more than a case. She was the woman—

He cut that train of thought off and said, “No sign of forced entry.”

“Someone let the killer in.”

“It's her, Hunter. The Doll Maker Killer's copycat.” His gaze
dropped to the floor as he paced and watched Colton grab a pool stick from the corner of the room and use it to dislodge an item under Mr. Nash's left leg. “You recognize that?”

Dominic looked down to see Serena's phone with the purple and pink cover lying on the floor. “She's got her.”

The pounding in her head was her first clue that she was still alive.

Quiet sobs reached her ears.

Serena forced her eyes open. They fell shut. With effort, she shoved them open. And began to register her surroundings.

A table with a green covering and cards spread out over it. Blue, red, and white chips. Dice.

A casino?

She blinked again.

“Serena?” A bare whisper that she almost didn't hear.

She turned her head and her eyes landed on Camille. With her ankle cuffed to the steel chair, the girl sat huddled on the floor, her terror stamped plainly in her eyes. Serena tried to talk and found her throat dry and scratchy. She managed to force out a hoarse, “Are you okay?”

“No. What's going on? I think I'm going to puke.”

“Did you see who did this? What happened?”

“I saw her.”

“Her?”

“Yes. Her.”

Serena turned at the voice. Slowly, so as not to aggravate the dizziness making her head spin and stomach churn.

But when she laid eyes on the woman in the doorway, she gaped. “Dorie?”

“Hmm. Yes, but you can call me Gwendolyn.”

Dominic was on the phone rounding up everyone he could think of to help with the search for Serena and Camille. “Ping their phones. I want tower locations, text message transcripts, phone calls. Everything you can dig up.”

Terry's computer began clicking and Dominic used his Bluetooth in order to have both hands free. He hung up with Terry and dialed Hunter. “I need a SWAT team on standby in case this turns into a hostage situation.”

“Roger that,” Hunter said. “I'll put the call in.”

“And check with the taxi services to see if they let a woman off anywhere near Nash's address.”

Dominic hung up with Hunter and placed a call to Nate Lindell.

The man answered on the second ring and Dominic got right to it. “This is Special Agent Dominic Allen again.”

A pause. “I believe I've answered all the questions I can.”

“Last time we met, you said you'd been wondering if your sister could somehow be involved in the killings. You were right.”

“It doesn't surprise me.”

“And right now, she's got Serena Hopkins and possibly a young girl by the name of Camille Nash. Where would she take them?”

“I . . . I don't know. I haven't seen my sister in twenty years.”

“Think, man! I need a location. Did your father own any other real estate property? Anything?”

“She would take her somewhere she wouldn't be interrupted.” He spoke slowly, as though he were talking to himself. “The old place? No, she couldn't do that . . .”

“We already checked the old place, the shed is gone, as is the room that was under it. The bank repossessed the house and a young family bought it and has been living there for the past twelve years.”

“I know.”

Nate sounded distracted and Dominic wanted to scream at the man to pay attention. “Hey, Nate. Come on, think.”

“I don't want to think. That's not a part of my life I want to revisit. Now leave me alone.”

Click.

Nate had hung up.

Dominic clenched his hand around the wheel.
God, I need your help. Please let me find her.

Serena let her eyes follow the woman as she crossed the room. “You lost weight.”

The inane words helped her try to put everything together. The pistol in her hand terrified her. Dorie King was Allison Kingston. Who was Gwendolyn Lindell. Daughter of the Doll Maker Killer.

The woman laughed, surprise flickering across her face. “I've lost weight? That's the first thing you can say?” She glanced down at her now slender form. “Yeah, I knew once the girls started dying, the cops would be doing all kinds of research on the Doll Maker Killer. Figured my picture would come up as the daughter of Drake Lindell. Couldn't take a chance on anyone recognizing me from those.”

Serena blurted, “You killed Howard?”

Gwendolyn's brow furrowed. “Yes. He'd pretty much outlived his usefulness.”

Confusion riddled Serena. Maybe when her mind cleared a bit she would be able to figure it all out. “You were in my house,” she whispered. Darkness wanted to claim her once again, but she resisted. What had Dorie . . . Gwendolyn . . . used on her?

“You have something someone wants,” Gwendolyn said.

“The package. That's what you were looking for.”

Gwendolyn smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “Yes, the package. Thank
you for not playing like you don't know what I mean. As much as I love games, that's not one I want to play.”

Serena swallowed. “Can I have some water?”

Her question seemed to throw Gwendolyn off for a moment. The woman frowned, then turned and disappeared into a small room behind Serena. She heard water running, then a cup was shoved into her hand. “Feel like you have cotton mouth, huh? A side effect of the drug.”

Serena took a small swallow and tasted the sweetness of the water. “What did you use?”

“Scopolamine, of course. Compliments of my uncle in Ecuador. It makes one very compliant. You were even kind enough to drive Paul's jeep for me.”

Serena frowned. She had no memory of that.

Camille's eyes bounced back and forth between her and Gwendolyn. All Serena could think was to keep her talking. Would Dominic get her message?

“How did you get past my alarm system?”

Gwendolyn lifted a pink tinted brow. “Through your doggie door. By the way, you have a loose board on that fence in the back. Might want to get that checked.” She laughed, a hard, cold sound that sent terror shuddering through her.

The doggie door. Serena shivered at the simplicity of it. Then anger pushed its way through her terror. “Why did you attack my mother?”

Gwendolyn frowned and shrugged. “I didn't do that.”

Serena didn't believe her, but why would she lie? “Then who did? And why?”

“I have an idea, but it doesn't matter.”

The memory of her wreck came back to her and she looked around, her eyes probing the room, the shadows and corners. “Wait a minute. You have a partner. It took two of you to do what you did when you rammed me with your car and killed the officer.”